Never Let It Go
by SabineAmnell
Summary: One of House's old cases comes back to haunt he and Cuddy after they have found one another again following Wilson's death. Cuddy goes missing one night, can House put the puzzle together in time to find her? Set after Diagnosis of the Heart.
1. Monday Morning

Got this crazy idea a couple days ago, it's a bit on the angsty side, but this is fanfiction after all. Enjoy. :) Please R&R

* * *

It was late and Lisa Cuddy had fallen asleep on her couch reading after putting her daughter Rachel to bed and seeing her boyfriend off. She hadn't even gone upstairs to change into her pajamas, her clothes still reflecting the relaxed mood of a Sunday with jeans and a maroon sweater. It was Sunday night and Gregory House had left a few hours previously, both of them having to work the next day. They had spent the remainder of their evening watching television, kissing, and talking on the couch before House had said he needed to get home and at least get a couple hours sleep before tomorrow.

Groggily, she made her way upstairs glad that the carpet muffled her bare footsteps as she passed her daughter's room. She entered her own dark room and was instantly shoved against the wall by a strong force. In milliseconds she knew that an intruder was in her home and her first concern was Rachel. The tall figured moved slowly, thinking he must have had her subdued, but when his knife glinted in the moonlight, Cuddy shoved back. She was in good shape and could defend herself. Her forceful push was enough to free herself and turn to run. Cuddy was deciding whether or not to pass Rachel's room in order to divert the intruder away or to go to her daughter in order to protect her directly and was hardly prepared for the second intruder. She had not gone two feet before colliding with him. He grabbed her arm and, before she could pull away, the first intruder took her other arm. They forced her to the floor on her stomach and she felt a sharp pain as the knife jabbed into her ribs. A hand covered her mouth, muffling out her cry of pain.

"The little girl in the next room…" He said, his voice deep and she felt his breath in her ear. He paused, looking for her attention.

Cuddy had heard loud and clear and froze. They knew where Rachel was, she thought in terror.

"…will continue to sleep peacefully having sweet dreams as long as you cooperate, understand? A single word or any other trouble, and I'll go slit her tiny little throat, got it?"

Cuddy nodded, thinking she knew what to expect now. If she had to oblige and lie still while these two men assaulted her, she would do so if it meant keeping Rachel safe.

"Answer me." He demanded, taking the hand from her mouth.

"Yes." Cuddy was able to rasp through her fear.

"Good," he released one of her arms and roughly pulled her to her feet.

Wavering unsteadily on her feet, Cuddy covered her right side with her free hand and felt blood. Wincing, she applied pressure. Attempting to gauge how badly she had been wounded she took deep breaths, determined not to panic. There was blood and pain, but she guessed the wound was not too deep.

"Get a coat, you're coming with us." The deep voice commanded.

This took Cuddy aback for a moment and she blinked up at her attacker in the darkness, confused.

"Now."

Going with an attacker to a second location was against everything women were told in any self-defense class but Cuddy thought of Rachel in the next room and knew she must comply. Cautiously moving to her closet, she slipped on a pair of ballet flats and pulled a light jacket off the hanger. It was early spring yet and a chill still hung in the air. Cuddy hardly cared at the moment if she might be cold or not, but the jacket appropriate for the weather had been the first one within reach. Turning back toward the two invaders, she waited, shivering slightly beneath the jacket and breathing heavily in pain.

One nodded to the other and he seized her again. As large and invasive as the men were, they quietly traversed the hall as she had done in order to keep from waking her daughter. It was clear to Cuddy that whoever these men were, they must know her somehow. Burglars would simply steal and murderers were unlikely to spare a child. For some reason, they had come specifically to take her with them and had no need for Rachel. As much as this was to her relief, her own situation seemed dire. She looked back at the house as they exited, closing the door behind them softly.

"Not to worry, the little one will wake and call her grandma, she'll be fine." The man with the deeper voice attempted to assure her. This confused Cuddy even further. Not only had they known what they were doing and who they were after, but they seemed to have planned it well enough to make sure Rachel would be safe. Seating her in a dark car, one man on either side of her, they drove off in the pre-dawn hours of Monday morning.


	2. Missing Person

Rachel was an early riser. Her tiny feet touched down on the pink area rug on her wooden floor just a few hours after her mother had disappeared. Her blue nightgown covered past her knees and featured a smiling Ariel on the chest. She made her way into her mother's bedroom, but found the bed made. A small pile of clothes were on the floor, but otherwise, the room was completely normal, except that her mother was not in it.

"Mommy?" She called. She left the room and wandered into the kitchen. Rachel began to get scared. Her mommy was always there when she woke up. The phone rang and she started. Normally, Rachel loved answering the phone, but something made her freeze. The house had been too quiet and she had had a nightmare last night, making her wary.

"Mommy." She called again, upset. Hugging the stuffed rabbit that she had been carrying, she ran back up into her mother's bed to hide.

* * *

House sat at his desk at Princeton Plainsboro. He had intended on leaving after his probation was up, but Foreman had offered him Department Head again since Chase had left and much more autonomy than he had under Foreman before. It got easier traveling down the halls that he and Wilson used to and not think of the fact that Wilson was gone. Memories had replaced that feeling of despair and acceptance had set in. He missed his friend every moment, but he could function, especially when Cuddy waited at the end of the day. Cuddy and Rachel. House nearly kicked himself for the sentiment.

Monday night was usually an off night for them. Living nearly an hour away, they spent time together on the weekends and the week days were lonelier. He could hardly complain, absence made the heart grow fonder and the passion between them was as strong as it had ever been. Each meeting, they could barely contain themselves. He smiled at the thought.

In any case, to keep things alive during their off days, House would often call Cuddy's office and give her a little tease. His new team was doing blood tests and he was waiting for the results, a perfect time for a late morning tease.

The phone rang once and her Administrative Assistant picked up almost immediately. His voice was strained, "Dr. Cuddy's Office."

"Dr. Cuddy, please." House said, thinking it was odd that it didn't ring right into Cuddy's office.

"Is this Dr. House?" The assistant knew they were in a relationship.

Normally House would come up with some sarcastic remark about privacy or stupidity but the assistant's voice seemed very on edge.

"Yes," House answered cautiously.

"Dr. House, Dr. Cuddy hasn't been in all day. I've been calling all morning, but-" The assistant quit talking because a dial tone sounded in his ear. House had hung up.

House tapped the phone on his chest a couple times in thought. If she was sick enough not to even call in, then he might not want to disturb her. It was so out of character for her to blow off work though that he dialed her home number.

It rang four times, then went to the answering machine. House cleared his throat, "Just checking in. Heard you were playing hooky today, so-"

He was cut off by Rachel's voice, "House?" Apparently, she had heard him and picked up the phone.

"Hey, gangrene face." He greeted in their familiar way of insulting one another.

"Mommy's gone." Rachel's voice sounded thick like she had been crying.

"Where'd she go?" House asked, his heart beginning to beat a little faster.

"I don't know. I'm all alone, House."

"How long have you been alone?" He asked, pulling out his cell phone and turning it on. There was no way Cuddy would leave Rachel alone.

"Since I woke up."

House looked up a number and dialed. It rang twice before Arlene answered with a tentative greeting, seeing it was House's number. He stayed on the line with Rachel as well, so she would know what he was doing, "Arlene, go over to Lisa's."

"What's going on, Greg?" She asked, alerted by the urgency in his voice. She would also normally have come up with some quip. Ever since Lisa had come out of the hospital and gotten back together with Greg, even though it was a year ago, Arlene had a tough time accepting it.

"Just drive over there fast, Rachel is alone."

Arlene asked no more questions and he could at least know that he appreciated that about her. She knew when to shut up and act. She was also a lot closer to Rachel than he was right now and, as much as he liked handling things himself and hating involving Arlene, Rachel needed someone there as soon as possible. At least he didn't have to call Julia.

"Rachel, I need to hang up."

"No." Rachel whined.

"Your grandmother is on her way, so am I." He explained, "When I hang up, call your grandmother." House wanted to stay on the phone with her, but his bike would be much too noisy and he planned on riding fast.

"Okay." Rachel squeaked fearfully into the phone and he found himself proud of her that she would let go of her only lifeline at the moment. Grabbing up his cane, he limped quickly to the elevator, getting looks from doctors and nurses for being on a cellular phone as he dialed the police station in Holmdel where Cuddy lived. He didn't notice them at all, his brain dedicated to figuring out what the hell was going on.

* * *

By the time he arrived forty minutes later a police vehicle was in the street and Arlene and Rachel were hand in hand speaking to an officer. Rachel rushed to House as he dismounted his bike and they rejoined Arlene and the officer.

The police officer regarded him with suspicion and Arlene shook her head, "This is Lisa's boyfriend, Greg House."

"Officer Richards," He introduced himself, "I understand you were probably the last one to see her." The officer began.

"Last night," House agreed, "About, uh midnight. Rachel said she was gone when she woke up." He explained.

Officer Richards looked down at Rachel then back at Arlene and House, "As I explained to Mrs. Cuddy here, I can't count her as a missing person for twenty-four hours. There is no sign of a break-in. I've done a once over around and inside the house and I see no indication that foul play was involved, the doors were locked, all the windows intact. She may have just left." The officer offered.

Arlene's face went red and House prepared for an inevitable tear down. House knew the officer was dead wrong as much as Arlene did, but the policeman couldn't count her missing unless there was proof. No amount of browbeating was going to change the policies that he had to abide.

As Arlene was letting Office Richards have it, House wandered toward the door. He checked the handle, not broken. The house was just as he had left it the night before. On the couch lay the book Cuddy was reading right now and an afghan throw that complimented the sofa. The book was marked and closed, which meant that whatever had happened, it hadn't happened in the living room. On the coffee table, was her cellular phone. He did his own once-over, checking windows, doors, and even the attic. Everything was buttoned up tight just as it should be. It looked very much as if Cuddy had left and locked the door behind her. He went up the stairs and into Rachel's bedroom. Everything was secure.

In Cuddy's room, the bed was still mostly made. A small corner of the blanket had been pulled back and House guessed it had been Rachel's doing. The drawers and oak chest were closed and nothing had been ransacked. Otherwise, it was clear that the bed had not been slept in. This meant Cuddy had been gone since before she went to bed last night. He swallowed, noting that this might indicate many things or nothing. On the negative side, the longer she was gone, the more likely it was that something bad had happened. If she had been gone all night…he shook his head of the thoughts and images that suddenly filled his mind.

Turning to leave, he noticed the pile of clothes he knew had been on the chest at the end of the bed yesterday. Now, they were on the floor. With his cane, he slowly pushed the little pile of skirt and blouse aside to find a large blood stain on the carpet.


	3. Digging Up Bones

Cuddy's house was crawling with police officers an hour later. There was now direct evidence that she had not left of her own accord. They separated House, Arlene, and Rachel. Rachel took it the hardest as the officers pulled her away.

"Hold on just a second. I'm an ass, but I can be bothered to explain things to a six year old who is scared." House shot at the cop pulling Rachel away, "Rachel," His voice became even as he spoke to Cuddy's frightened daughter, "These people need to talk to you in order to find your mom. When you're done, your grandmother and I will still be here, alright?" He had always been straight with Rachel, not pandering or lying in order to protect her.

Once again, Rachel seemed to draw strength from his brutal honesty and nodded as she was ushered away.

Officer Richards ignored his anger as he had Arlene's, "Mr. House, we need to have your whereabouts for the last twenty-four hours."

"Mr. Richards," House began, emphasizing the mister, "I was here until midnight last night." He repeated, "Then I went home."

"Do you have anyone who can verify that you were at home after midnight last night?"

"Lisa Cuddy." House declared, heatedly, "She'll confirm it. Perhaps you ought to put some energy into locating her."

...

"I live alone, so I can't verify it with anyone else." Arlene was saying, "But I had spoken to Lisa this past Saturday. She said Greg was spending the weekend."

"Do you have any reason to believe that Mr. House is behind your daughter's disappearance?"

"Dr. House?" Arlene hesitated, not knowing exactly how to answer.

"He has a record." The officer prompted.

"Yes, but he has had some problems in the past due to being crippled and addiction. They have both assured me those are behind him. I do not believe he is behind her disappearance." Arlene said with finality. House would never hurt Lisa, would he? She wondered. Hadn't he driven a car into her house?

...

"Mr. House has never done anything to hurt you?" Another officer was interviewing Rachel.

"No." Rachel said, shyly, "But, it's Dr. House. He didn't go to medical school to be called Mister." Rachel quoted.

The officer gave her a look, "Have you ever seen Dr. House hurt your mommy?"

"No."

...

After the exhausting interviews House was well aware that he was the number one suspect. He didn't have time for some misdirected investigation while Cuddy was still missing and, judging from the bloodstain on her carpet, injured. He tried to keep the puzzle objective, tried to separate the fact that the missing person that needed to be found was the woman he loved. There was nothing to go on. House limped to Rachel and Arlene, the latter was hovering over the girl protectively and speaking sweetly.

"We'll get some things and you'll stay with me, sweetie." Arlene was saying.

House gave Arlene a sympathetic look, wasn't that what people did in situations like this? "Rachel, did you hear anything last night?"

Rachel, who was clearly stressed, but the only potential witness, shook her head, "I had a bad dream."

House narrowed his eyes, "About what?"

"Two monsters came into my room, I hid under the blankets and they didn't see me."

House took it in. It was either truly just a dream or Rachel had dreamed about something that truly happened. If so, there were two intruders. It made sense. Cuddy might have been able to at least have a fighting chance at one and that would have likely made enough noise to wake Rachel. Since Rachel didn't remember being awake through any of it, it was possible that two people had subdued Cuddy quickly and quietly. Then, there was the blood. There was some question of whose it was and House had taken a sample to find out for sure. He was afraid of the answer. It was a nice thought to think that the intruder had been wounded in some way and not Cuddy, but House couldn't bring himself to hope until he knew for sure.

He was told not to leave town and he dreaded his future prospects of staying out of jail. The only thing worse than what had already happened would be to stay in jail and learn about the outcome while being even more helpless than he was now. With the blood sample in his pocket, he limped off toward his bike.

* * *

"I need to know if this blood is a match." House told his team who had clearly been waiting on him. He set down a piece of paperwork from Cuddy's old file at Princeton and the blood sample.

"Where have you been?" A Cameron wannabe exclaimed. Her name was Erica Spaid and he didn't particularly like her. He had just seized the department back, however and would make firing waves at an indeterminate future date.

"Does it matter?"

"The tests on our patient came back almost an hour ago."

"And so you just sat around instead of figuring out what they mean?

His other team member, Clay Rankin, began in Spaid's defense, "No, we-"

But House cut him off, he didn't have time to trade barbs right now, "Blood. Sample. Match. Now." He said, pointing at the table with his cane.

"Another patient?" Rankin asked.

"Does it matter?" House asked again, "The way I see it the only thing that matters is that I'm your boss and I told you to do something."

Rolling her eyes, Spaid grabbed the information and went off to do the test.

"Your eyes'll get stuck that way if you're not careful." House called after her. He looked at Rankin, "Take the results of the blood tests of our patient and do your job."

Brooding, he limped into his office and grabbed his oversized tennis ball, a replacement for his old one. Tossing it against the wall, he tried to decide what the facts meant.

Cuddy was gone, taken from her home between midnight and approximately 7:00am. Rachel had not been touched or even disturbed. Nothing had been stolen. All the doors and windows had been locked. There was blood on Cuddy's bedroom carpet. His mind mixed the facts around to come up with more facts.

This was no ordinary break in, whoever had taken Cuddy had targeted her only. It had been done by someone who knew how to get into a home and leave with little evidence. He scanned the internet for reports of missing persons recently in the area. It was doubtful this was a random attack and he wondered if a stalker had been reported or if anyone else had gone missing in the same manner. He came up with very little, but at least it kept his mind busy until the blood tests came back.

"The blood is a match." Spaid told him and House bit the inside of his mouth and looked away.

"Can we get back to our patient now?" Spaid complained.

"Not stopping you." House snapped back.

"Can _you_ get back to our patient now?" Rankin interjected.

"I'm busy."

"Doing what? Wasting our time doing pointless blood match tests? You're just testing us, giving us pointless tasks to see if we crack." Spaid accused.

"If I were, you'd be failing miserably." House said, evenly.

"But, you usually don't waste our time with something so pointless."

"Then maybe you should assume that it's not a waste of time or pointless." House countered, "Thanks for playing. Now leave." He said, his voice lowering in anger. He didn't look up again, didn't care if they actually left as long as they stayed quiet. He heard the door shut though and focused his attention back on Cuddy.

It wasn't ten minutes later that Foreman walked in and House rolled his eyes, "Did my lackeys complain that I was being insensitive?"

"Uh, no." Foreman answered, confused, "I came to ask about a past patient. Do you remember treating a Joseph Arnello?"

"Doesn't ring any immediate bells," House told him, "Names slip my mind, though."

"Had a brother, William or Bill Arnello?"

"I said no, so unless you have something important-"

"Cuddy seemed to think it was pretty important." Foreman interjected, annoyed at House's lack of cooperation.

House's blue eyes focused on Foreman intensely, "What?"

"She asked me to look into this file for her. I assume to get a history for a patient, but I can't find the file."

"You talked to her on the phone today?"

"Yeah, told her I'd look into it."

"Is she still on the phone?" House was standing now.

"I told her I'd just call her back, but she asked to wait. She's on hold."

House grabbed his phone, "What line?" His voice agitated.

"My private office line." Foreman said, his eyes narrowing.

House tossed his phone back on his desk and blew past him and started limping toward the elevator. Foreman rushed to catch up, "What's going on, House?"

"You didn't find it strange that she wants to hold on the phone during a potentially long search into a patient's file when she's the head administrator of a hospital and probably has a million other things to do?"

"A little…" Foreman admitted, "But it sounded urgent, so-"

"It is urgent." House agreed, pounding on the button of the elevator, "How did she sound?" House's voice grew softer as they entered the elevator and he punched the button for the first floor.

"Uh…"

"How did she sound?" House asked again, this time irritated and louder.

"I don't know, tired. Uh, she sounded like it was urgent, she sounded stressed." Foreman answered, finally, "What the hell is this about?"

The elevator opened and House rushed into Foreman's office. One line was blinking red and he reached for the receiver. The light blinked out just before he picked it up, "Cuddy?" He said urgently into the receiver anyway. The dial tone answered him. He threw the receiver, "Damnit!"

Foreman stood at the door, "What the hell is going on, House?" He demanded.

House's eyes darted around as he thought before he answered, "We need to find the file on Joseph Arnello."


	4. Never Forget

A large hand reached out from behind her had pressed the phone hook down. The hold music ended abruptly and he took the receiver and hung it up.

"Why was he taking so long?" The deep voice rumbled.

"The file is eight years old, it could take some time to dig up." Cuddy answered. She was sitting at a simple wooden table which held the rotary phone she had just used. A towel was applied to her side, soaking up blood.

"Or you tipped him off somehow." He was paranoid, they could have been traced.

Cuddy closed her eyes, trying to find the least dangerous way to answer, "He didn't know, but it won't be a secret for long that I'm missing."

"Which is why you need to get us this information faster or else you lose your usefulness."

She knew she would lose her usefulness before long from loss of blood anyway, but she said nothing. The drive to the lavish house in New York had proven that the injury would continue to bleed. It was slow but even slow bleeding gave someone very little time to stop it. They had approached a smaller man with a thin mustache who introduced himself as Franco Falcone. He had been exceedingly polite and suave but had made it clear that he would not be played with. He told her that she would get them some information or die. Now, they were in some sort of cellar. The floors were concrete and the windowless walls were bare. Cuddy had the distinct impression that this room had been used for a similar purpose before.

"I'll call back." She offered, "He probably found the file by now."

The large brute of a man looked to Falcone, who was obviously superior to the Brute, "Look, we didn't really want to involve kids, but…" The smaller man left it hanging.

"I've done exactly what you asked." Cuddy argued, her voice shaking at the threat to Rachel, "The file is eight years old, I've treated hundreds of patients since then and all I have is a name."

"I know it's been eight years!" He shouted, leaning over the table with his hand firmly planted in front of Cuddy. His face was even with hers. "Ya know how I know? I just spent those eight years in prison because of what that bastard did. You need more information? He was treated at your hospital by Dr. House, but since Dr. House is dead…"

Cuddy looked up sharply. Greg House hadn't been officially dead for the past six months. All of the red tape to make the records state that he was officially alive had taken so long that these men searched for him, found that he was dead, and simply moved on. She also finally put together who this man was looking for. But, they had never gotten his real name. House had received a car from them for helping Joey Arnello. The memories all came flooding back.

"The thing is that this is a win/win for me no matter what." He said more calmly, "I either find Joey Arnello and kill him or I get to temporarily alleviate my burning urge to kill him by killing one of the doctors who saved his worthless life."

Cuddy felt her head get light at the implication that she was going to die here no matter what she did and she fought down panic, "He used a fake name." She told him, "I remember him. The file is there, just let me follow up with him and get it."

...

The phone number had been hidden from caller ID but the time it took for Cuddy to call back had given House enough time to recall who Joseph Arnello must be and even left a few moments to brief Foreman. The name was Italian, and although he never knew it before and only knew him as Mr. Smith, House deduced from the facts about Cuddy's abduction and the name and decided he had a good idea of what was probably happening. Foreman jumped on board and would play his part. House had his team and several nurses sifting through the Smiths in the database but he remembered the case now anyway. He hoped they could fake it.

The phone rang again and Foreman put the call on speaker. House closed his eyes, waiting for her voice.

"Dr. Foreman." Foreman answered as ignorant sounded as he could.

"Foreman," Cuddy began and instantly House perceived the strain in her voice, "We got cut off before, but I was hoping you found that file for me." House listened hard, hearing a catch in her voice. She was in pain.

"No, we were unable to find it, but we do have Dr. House here who does remember the case well." Foreman looked at House who nodded.

"House?" House's heart tugged uncomfortably when he knew she must have realized he had been there the entire conversation.

"Good afternoon Dr. Cuddy." House chirped.

On the other end, Brute's face turned red. Falcone's jaw set. Was this some sort of put on? Dr. House was supposed to be dead. Cuddy's chest flared with what she knew was false hope but this was very likely the last connection with House she might ever have. Falcone nodded toward Cuddy to continue.

"We have Mr. William Arnello here at Bayshore and he is suffering the same symptoms as his brother. We need to find Joseph Arnello as soon as we can in order to get a better medical history." They had discussed the lie beforehand.

In Foreman's office, House took a breath before doing what might be incredibly risky but their only option, "Look, there are no cops here and we won't involve them. I have something you want, you have something I want. We can handle this like business men and make a trade. You give us Dr. Cuddy and we'll give you the file on Joey Arnello. We both walk away winners."

There was a long silence on the other end before Falcone answered, "Except I've been disrespected here. You see, we thought you were dead, she knew you weren't and yet, she kept her pretty little mouth shut." Cuddy's voice could be heard now in distress, lamenting softly on the other line.

House hadn't seen this coming, "I thought mobsters had the most up to date information. I haven't been dead in six months."

"I was just explaining to Dr. Cuddy how I get to win this game either way. You either help me find Joey Arnello so that I can kill the bastard defector or I take out my frustration of not finding him on a doctor who saved his life so that he could rat me out."

"I'm the doctor who saved his life." House admitted instantly, trying to stay calm despite all the threats.

'That presents a problem, don't it?" Falcone drawled, "'Cause I don't have you, I have her. That's OK, 'cause she looks like more fun for me anyway. Once I'm done with her, I'll come pick you up."

"Not if I go to the Feds and enter the witness protection program." House said, now flying by the seat of his pants, "Or we try that business approach and I give you myself and the information you want. I know where Joey Arnello is. I'm his doctor."

Another silence.

"How bout we meet at the Somerset Diner on Easton in two hours?"

"Great, they have awesome burgers." House paused, "I will not cooperate if Dr. Cuddy is mistreated though."

"Don't worry about that. She's been getting the star treatment."

The dial tone sounded, they had hung up.


	5. Bad Hand

"You are not going to do this, House." Foreman was trailing behind the limping doctor as he made his way to the clinic.

"I don't have a lot of time, Foreman, so unless you can think of a better idea in less than two hours…" He continued to walk away.

"Call the police." Foreman said as if it were obvious.

"So they can charge in with guns blazing?" House questioned as he took a medical kit out of one of the clinic rooms, "Pretty sure the mob won't just open the door for them."

"No, but they are trained for this, you're not a police officer."

"Right, cops are so useful. I should sit back, relax, and let them handle this. They probably already found her."

"House…" Foreman blocked the clinic room door.

"Look, you're not going to stop me and if you do, you're killing Cuddy. Don't make me beat the crap out of you with my cane to get through." House yelled, "I'm open to a better idea if you have one.

"I'm gonna need a few more things before I go."

* * *

Brute had grabbed a handful of Cuddy's hair and was pulling her head back, forcing her to look at him, "You better hope he has some answers." He said before letting her go.

"C'mon." Falcone drawled, "We gotta drive back to New Jersey."

Brute unplugged the phone and Cuddy heard the door lock behind them. Alone, she pulled the bloody towel away from her rib cage and winced at the state of the wound beneath. The bleeding had slowed at least but it would be impossible to keep clean. The only thing to do was press the towel back onto it and hope for the best, hope for it to clot. Two hours might make all the difference if she kept bleeding and she knew that it was a very real possibility that even if house was telling the truth and even if Falcone kept his word and let her go that they might come back too late and find that she had bled to death. There were a lot of what ifs and a lot of unlikely events. Not even House could play with these kind of cards.

* * *

The diner was a popular spot in Somerset and House dismounted his bike pulled the medical bag off and walked toward the door. He was cut off by a large man with dark hair and dark eyes. Italian, House thought.

"What's in the bag?" He asked, his voice deep.

"Medical bag, medical supplies." House answered.

The man grabbed the bag away from him and ushered House to a car in the parking lot, "Get in." He commanded and House complied.

Inside was a smaller man and another large man. House dimly wondered if the two big guys were the monsters Rachel had dreamed about.

"I'm Franco Falcone, that's Caesar and this is Antonio."

"Pleasure's all mine," House said, sarcastically.

Caesar, the big guy who met him at the door got into the passenger seat, "He had this on him." He handed Franco the medical bag.

"What's this?" He asked, heatedly, showing House the bag.

"I deduced that Dr. Cuddy is in need of medical attention. It'd be a shame if my last act as a doctor was not to help someone." He said, dryly.

"Seems crazy that you'd come all the way out here like this and give yourself up, Dr. House." Falcone handed House the bag, "What is all that?"

"Saline for blood loss, glucose, same reason. A stitch kit, pain killers, an epi pen…not sure why I would need that, she's not allergic to the mob." House touched each object as he explained them.

"You must know Dr. Cuddy…" He scoffed at his own words, "The lady and I can hardly be considered unacquainted enough for me to be so informal. Lisa, you must know Lisa." The car started and they drove out of the lot.

"You could say we're acquainted." House said cautiously, narrowing his eyes.

"How acquainted?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

Franco Falcone only gave House a sly smile, "Star treatment."

House struggled to keep his emotions in check, "Our agreement was that Cuddy not be mistreated."

Falcone's smile widened, "That was only two hours ago and most women would not consider it mistreatment."

"You're either implying that you sexually assaulted her in order to gauge my reaction or you really did and then you wouldn't get what you wanted from me so…" House let that hang in the air.

"We're going to get what we want out of you, Dr. House."

"Oh, I see, we're not yet well acquainted enough for you to call me Greg."

"Not quite."

There was silence after that until House said, "Well, Franco, unless I know-"

"No one's touched her." Falcone smiled again, "You have my word. I just wanted to know."

House narrowed his eyes, hiding how relieved he was and feigning confusion. He looked out the window, willing them to arrive soon, willing for Cuddy to be in decent condition when they did.

When they did finally pull into the extravagant drive of the enormous home, House exclaimed, "Wow-ee! I picked the wrong profession, I should have gone into mobstering. Then I could kidnap women and cripples so I can kill an old buddy."

Falcone gave him a smile, "Welcome to my humble home."

"It's anything but humble." House muttered, getting out of the car as it pulled to a stop, "Here's how this is going to work. I assess Dr. Cuddy's condition, treat her if needed. One of your goons drives her to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and once I confirm that's happened, I will tell you what you need to know."

"You're not demanding to be let go also?"

"Oh, I didn't know that was allowed." House quipped, grabbing the medical bag out o the seat ad closing the car door, "I just figured you'd kill me even if I did demand that so I didn't bother."

"It's a shame, Dr. House, you amuse me."

"I think you killing me is a shame too."

"Maybe if you give me what I want, I won't, maybe I'll even offer you a deal."

"One I can't refuse?" House asked, "Just shut up and take me to Dr. Cuddy."

That hit a sore note and Falcone lost his smile. He said no more, however and the three of them traveled through the house and down an elevator. When the door opened, House felt chill in the air and guessed they were now underground. The hall was dirt with stone walls and a door lay on the other end of it.

Caesar opened the door. There wasn't much to see but a table and chairs. House ventured inside and found Cuddy on the floor. A bloody towel was pressed against her side, her eyes were closed, and she wasn't moving.

House turned to Falcone, "You son of a bitch."


	6. New Deal

House limped quickly over to Cuddy and knelt down. He moved her onto her back and lifted her head, "Cuddy."

She woke easily, to House's relief, "House." She rasped.

"How ya doing?"

"Been better. Is Rachel okay?"

"She and Arlene have several cops watching over them." He said loud enough for Falcone to hear, "Looks like you decided to bleed to death."

Cuddy looked relieved, "Seemed like the thing to do."

House coughed out a laugh, "That's right, you just lie there and be glib." Glancing behind him, he said, "I need some water and juice or any drink with sugar in it, but no soda." He turned back to Cuddy, "How long have you been bleeding?"

"Several hours, definitely over a pint."

"Feeling loopy?"

"Light headed."

"And you passed out?"

"No, lying down slowed my heart rate…"

"Lowering your blood pressure and thus slowing the bleed. Nice." He pulled the towel away and examined the injury, "Looks like you clotted, congratulations."

"Let's celebrate with a drink."

House couldn't help but smile, she was certainly not doing great, but it could have been much worse, "Brought a sewing kit."

"Good, because there's a huge hole in my sweater."

He smiled again and pulled her bloody shirt up to complete expose her ribcage, allowing him access to the injury. He took one of the needles out of the medical bag and anesthetized the immediate area, "I just gave you a local, but this is still probably gonna hurt."

"Thanks for the warning." Cuddy said.

The cut was longer than it was deep. The center cut through most of the layers of skin while the outer edges were shallower. With no more ceremony, he began to stitch. Cuddy sucked in a breath and grabbed onto the leg of the chair as the needle pierced the swollen flesh. House worked as quickly as he could without making a mistake and by the time he was done Cuddy was pale and her breathing labored.

He looked up and Caesar was standing over them with a glass of orange juice. House nodded, "I need you to sit up, Cuddy."

Cuddy only nodded, her previous sense of humor having waned. His leg was killing him, but he helped her to her feet and into the chair at the table. He put some pills on the table in front of her, "Antibiotics to fight off infection, and painkillers." He handed her the juice, and bandaged the newly stitched wound.

She took the pills, washing them down with the juice. Falcone, who had been silent all this time, spoke up, "Dr. House, I have been patient…"

Cuddy's brow furrowed and she looked at House, concerned. House sighed and pulled a chair up in front of her.

"You're going to the hospital." House told her.

"And what, you're staying here?" Her voice gave way to panic.

"Yes."

"House." She began, realizing that no matter what she said, it wouldn't make a difference. Her hand came up to rest on his cheek and he allowed her caress to sooth him.

"No, actually." Falcone said, "Neither of you are leaving."

House's intense blue eyes turned on Falcone angrily, "That was not our deal."

"Here's what would happen if we did it your way, Dr. House." Falcone began, "We take Dr. Cuddy to a hospital and she tells the cops exactly where we are. She has absolutely no incentive to do otherwise."

"You mob guys are so paranoid."

"I think a better incentive is to keep her here with us until you give us the location of Joey Arnello."

"Believe me, I'm enough incentive." House claimed, standing up. The truth was, he had no idea where Joey Arnello was. The witness protection program was far too cautious to reveal it and House had nothing to tell, "So, if you're just planning on killing us both anyway, why should I tell you anything?"

"Because I know you'll want to avoid watching Dr. Cuddy die a slow painful death before you succumb to an equally slow and painful death." Falcone drew out his words slowly approaching the two doctors, "So, here's the new deal. To die quickly, tell me what I want to know."

"But you just let me-"

"I can't torture someone if they're going to be dead in an hour anyway. Something tells me you're stubborn and you're going to make me keep her alive for longer than that."

In one swift motion, House let a needle slip out of his sleeve and he brought it up and stabbed it beneath Falcone's shoulder blade. He knew it was tougher to pull away going forward than backing up. Pressing the plunger, he released the contents into Falcone's bloodstream.

A second later, a fist connected with his jaw and he found himself sprawled on the ground. Caesar stood between House and Falcone and Antonio rushed forward to grab Cuddy, yank her to her feet and put a knife to her throat.

"What the hell was that?" Falcone demanded, trying to grab the needle that still stuck out of his back.

"Telling you would be cheating," House said, rubbing his jaw and struggling to stand, "But now, you have incentive, because unless you want to die a slow and painful death you'll take the two of us where I want to go." House said, finally getting to his feet, "You have less than three hours before the poison I just injected you with will kill you."


	7. Holding My Breath

"Kill her." Falcone commanded.

"Hold on there, Slick." House shouted as Cuddy began to struggle against Antonio, "Did you not hear me? You die unless I decide to save you. What happens in the next three hours will decide that. If your first act to convince me is to kill my girlfriend, then you're going about winning my heart all wrong."

Falcone put a hand up toward Antonio who released Cuddy. Cuddy shakily pulled away from him and grabbed the chair for support. She knew the last thing she needed was more excitement. Torn stitches and high blood pressure were high on the list of risks, both which could prove fatal.

"Now here is how this is going to work." House pulled five more syringes out of the medical kit and placed them on the table. Each one was labeled with a letter from A to E in red sharpie but were otherwise identical, "One of these saves your life. The other four kill you instantly. I take Leatherface's cell phone here and once Dr. Cuddy and I are safely away you call the phone, I tell you which letter to inject. It's as easy as A, B, C…D, E."

"How bout I just test them on you?" Falcone asked, yanking the original syringe out of his back and tossing it to the floor.

"Because even if you did choose the right one to test, you wouldn't have enough left over to save yourself. Don't worry, I thought this through." House said irritably.

"How bout I start snipping off her fingers with my hedge trimmers and we see how quickly you tell me which one to use?" Falcone took a step forward and Cuddy took a step back.

"You'd trust me to tell you the right one after you maim Dr. Cuddy?" House questioned, taking a slight step in between the two.

Falcone's eyes narrowed, "You've overestimated your position. This hasn't gone exactly as planned. You meant for me to send her away and then use that syringe to save yourself. Now, I still have one ace left. You tell me which one to use or I'll kill her. If you give me the wrong one, I give Caesar and Antonio orders to kill you both."

"You were gonna kill us both anyway. I got nothing to lose." House stood his ground. He knew if he faltered, one or both of them would die. He kept the secret, their only chance, safe.

Falcone paused. He knew House was right, he had no more leverage, "How can I trust you to tell me the right one even if we do exactly what you want?"

"You have no choice."

* * *

House was not at all at ease even when Falcone ordered the car. He helped the weary Cuddy into the back seat and then climbed in beside her. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Far too nervous to actually sleep, she was preserving what was left of her strength. She was light headed and felt the world spin whenever she moved too quickly. The situation had also moved very quickly, making her head spin. Their lives had been threatened more in one day than in her entire life. Perhaps this was not true for House, he had probably received death threats often. She doubted it was over, doubted that Falcone would simply give up after the extreme steps he had taken. She would feel a lot better surrounded by police officers.

As the car drove away from the mansion, House pocketed Caesar's cell phone and looked down at Cuddy. He shared her misgivings that this would all go smoothly, "Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital." He said, again. Foreman knew what was going on and had called the police. House had instructed him to. The plan had always been to get Cuddy out first and then use the syringe to get himself out. He had to pull out his ace early, however, due to the game change.

Falcone had argued the logic, which was flawless, but even so, House couldn't shake the feeling that Falcone wasn't a man who liked to be outsmarted and would retaliate. He waited with baited breath.

* * *

This is a tad shorter than most, I have a bit of a block on how best to proceed with what will happen next. Thanks for sticking with me and for the reviews, updates soon!


	8. Safe?

The car ride was agony for House. About twenty minutes into it, he expected a sudden turn off, or to have the passenger, Caesar pull a gun or something. He waited, expecting. Nothing came. The roof of the highest building at Princeton Plainsboro came into sight and House began allowing his misgivings to dissipate. It was still some distance off, and he knew the dark car would not go right to the door. How could they? The hospital was expecting them and just because House had outsmarted them didn't make them complete idiots.

They stopped at a corner three blocks away.

"What's the letter?" Caesar asked.

House rolled his eyes, "So you can just blow our brains out as soon as we exit the car? Nice try." He got out, "Call me in ten." He offered his hand to Cuddy who took it. Her hands were cold, he thought sullenly. Helping her out of the car, he grew more anxious at how shaky she was on her feet.

House didn't wait for the car to drive away before putting his arm around Cuddy's waist and limping toward the hospital. He was waiting for something to go wrong though, feeling Caesar's eyes on his back. Nothing came.

As they approached the doors of Princeton, Cuddy's bloody sweater caught a lot of attention. Foreman and several police officers ran to meet them in the lot with a wheelchair in which Cuddy gingerly sat. In the lobby, the phone in House's pocket rang. He pulled it out and paused a moment before flipping it open. Foreman stopped pushing the chair and Cuddy looked up at House expectantly.

House took a breath, "B." A pause. "B." House said again before hanging up.

The small moment of almost complete silence ended abruptly when police and Foreman began asking questions. House ignored them and motioned for the nurse. Finally Foreman stepped in.

"Officers, you can get your questions answered after we give Dr. Cuddy medical attention."

A half hour later, Cuddy was in a bed getting IV fluids and House sat in a chair by the bed. Two police officers stood outside the door at Foreman's insistence that they needed protection.

"Was that the right one?" Cuddy asked House finally.

"Yes."

"So, they could still come after us."

"Yeah. But, it's more definite if I had killed him that Humpty and Dumpty would have come to kill us. Now, at least, he might think twice about it."

"He won't." Cuddy doubted aloud.

"I know." House agreed, soberly.

* * *

That evening, Arlene and Rachel visited to find House and Cuddy both asleep, the former in a chair. Rachel could not contain her glee, "Mommy!" She ran toward the bed, waking them both. Climbing onto the bed, Rachel dove into Cuddy's arms. Cuddy held her daughter tight, smiling widely. House wearily pulled himself up out of the chair and Rachel turned to hug him as well.

"Hi, putrid rat face." She said, her sweet feminine voice not matching the words at all.

"What's up, boil licking mutated monkey?" House answered, putting an arm around her.

Arlene allowed the moment without a word before saying, "We won't stay long, but she wanted to see you."

"Thank you, Mom." Cuddy said sounding drained. It became obvious after a while that she needed sleep so Arlene and Rachel left. House remained.

"You should go home and gets some rest," She told him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll stay." House offered, leaning over to kiss her gently.

"Thank you." She said, smiling before falling asleep. House settled in the chair beside her, dozing on and off throughout the night.

* * *

A week passed and House and Cuddy both told their version of events to the police. Falcone and anyone else in the mansion had disappeared, however so police officers were stationed outside Cuddy's hospital room the whole week at all times.

Cuddy's color had returned and the sutures were healing cleanly. Even after a week however, blood loss left her fragile. It would take at least a month before her body replaced all of the blood that was lost, but in another week she would feel almost normal again.

The edge of everyone's nerves had been taken off and everyone began to question whether or not Falcone intended revenge. Police were still stationed outside the room, but the alertness had waned. There had been neither hide nor hair of Falcone and there was talk of what the next step ought to be once Cuddy was released from the hospital that day.

House had brought a bag with some clothes for her to change into and even the two of them had wondered if Falcone would make a move.

"It'll be good to be home." Cuddy commented, smiling.

"It'll be good to have you in my bed again." House said, lifting his eyebrow.

"That would be your first concern." She bantered back.

He advanced on her, kissing her passionately. She kissed back, just as fervently and the two separated obviously frustrated, "And now it's your first concern." He smiled.

She laughed and grabbed the bag with her clothes, shaking her head, "I'll just be a minute."

The bathroom door closed and House limped toward the closed blinds, intending to open them. He heard the glass door slide open and narrowed his eyes as Falcone walked in, separating the blinds. Stepping back, House looked for a a way to warn Cuddy as Falcone shut the door behind him.

"It's good to have a few policemen on your payroll." Falcone said with a grin, pulling out a wicked looking knife, "Comes in handy."


	9. Falling

Sorry for the slower update, finally got a grip on how it would end. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for all the awesome reviews!

* * *

House's cane came up, making a swooshing noise as he attempted to use it as a weapon. Falcone had clearly been in a few more physical altercations than House and dodged deftly before catching the cane. Falcone was smaller than his two cohorts, but he was muscular and skilled. In one swift motion, he twisted the cane, forcing House's wrist to turn and his hand to let go. Before he knew it, the cane was coming back at him. House put an arm up to deflect but the cane slapped his right thigh and he yelped in pain.

"Brain over brawn?" Falcone taunted, hitting House's old injury once again. Falcone moved more quickly than the surprised House could keep up with and the brutality toward his crippled leg made him fall back. He willed for Cuddy to remain in the bathroom but she must know by now that something wasn't right.

Falcone put the knife down and tossed away the cane before pulling out a gun, "No calling for help." He said, putting his forefinger to his lips, "You might get some but not before I put a bullet in between your eyes. Get up, we're leaving." He stood over House who had no more bright ideas. House stood, then dove for the knife. It was stupid, he knew, but if he left with Falcone, it would be much worse than getting shot.

Falcone countered him, knocking him to the ground again. On his back, House felt a knee slam into his chest and the barrel of a gun slam against his head. Another blow came and the world went black for a moment and came back spinning. Suddenly, Falcone's hand wrapped around his neck and House felt his airflow cease. Struggling for breath, he felt the pressure on his throat increase. Medically, he guessed about how much time he had before passing out and then simply dying. It wasn't long.

Suddenly the pressure released and House drew in precious air. Falcone had turned and pointed the gun at Cuddy who was now in street clothing and wielded the knife. House's eyes narrowed; there was blood on the knife.

"Bitch!" Falcone charged into Cuddy like a train and they slammed against the wall, the gun raised evenly with her face. Cuddy looked down the barrel of the gun and closed her eyes, knowing the deafening noise to follow would mean her death. The shot rang out and she flinched but felt nothing. Opening her eyes, she saw Falcone on the floor on his knees, surrounded in a puddle of blood which was growing. The bullet had gone through the window behind her.

"What...?" He said, shocked, looking at his bloodied arm as he grew pale immediately.

"I just cut along your brachial artery." She said as he looked at the bloody knife in her hand, "Pumps 30 liters of blood a minute. There's about five in your body." There was no remorse in her face.

Falcone lost consciousness as nurses stormed into the room drawn by the gunfire. House's blue eyes landed on Cuddy who dropped the knife, put her hand to her mouth, and closed her eyes. Regaining her composure, she rushed to House's side as she and a nurse helped him to a chair.

"House?" She said softly, examining the bruising that was starting to form on his forehead.

"That was so hot." He said with a slur.

* * *

Falcone was saved from bleeding to death, but just barely. He needed transfusions before he would go back to jail for kidnapping, attempted murder, assault, and battery. House had a small concussion and was ordered to rest. They were released a few hours later and after putting Rachel to bed, were resting on Cuddy's bed as the unwatched television gave off light.

"Head hurt?" Cuddy asked him after she saw him gingerly touch his forehead. Lifting her head off his chest, she regarded him with concern.

"Nope, just checking to see if I look like the Elephant Man."

She gently kissed his ailing forehead after giving him a smile. He didn't allow her to withdraw and pulled her into another kiss. The kiss deepened and the two of them became frustrated again, groping and tugging each other's clothing.

House paused the kissing for a moment, "Did I mention that brachial artery move was really hot?"

"Mhm," She murmured, "Looks like we're even."

"Even?" House asked.

"Yeah, you save me, I save you."

"We're two for one, my favor. You still owe me."

Cuddy's smile widened, "You're keeping score from a year ago?"

"I haven't had a need to cash in, the sex has been awesome."

With no more words, Cuddy kissed him again. House fervently kissed back, taking an active stance and pushing her down on the bed. Passionately, grateful of the other, they made love. Breathless, they disentangled themselves and Cuddy almost immediately began drifting off to sleep. No alarm would wake them tomorrow, they were given the day off.

"I love you." House whispered in her ear.

Cuddy smiled, "I know."

House smiled back, kissing her temple, and settling his body around hers before falling asleep.

THE END


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